


clipping coupons

by aghamora



Series: Flaurel Ficlets [35]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Birthday Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Laurel's birthday, and Frank has a unique, one-of-a-kind gift only he could come up with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	clipping coupons

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: 'laurel's birthday and frank makes her breakfast in bed and gives her presents and cute stuff like that.'

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open, followed by a deep, familiar voice, is all it takes to rouse Laurel from her slumber.

“Rise and shine. It’s breakfast in bed time.”

Confused, she yawns and rubs her eyes, squinting at the sudden deluge of bright light streaming in through the blinds and casting golden lines across the sheets of Frank’s bed. She’s buck naked from last night, still tangled in his comforter, and it takes her a moment to come to and look over at Frank; shirtless in only a pair of his slacks, standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands. There’s a plate of food on it – exactly what, she can’t tell from a distance – with silverware and napkins, and even a little vase with a daisy in it.

She wonders for a moment what the occasion is, running through today’s date in her head, and as soon as she remembers she grins sleepily, pushing strands of messy hair out of her face and watching as Frank makes his way over to her, setting down the tray on the nightstand beside her. He doesn’t waste any time after that climbing into bed with her and nestling himself in at her side, his lips exploring her collarbone and her shoulder, before moving up, to her neck and jawline and bare breasts. He kisses her all over, downright ravenous and yet somehow strikingly tender, and Laurel laughs breathlessly, rolling onto her back to face him.

“Happy birthday,” he murmurs against her skin, pausing long enough to meet her eyes. “Made eggs benedict. Your favorite.”

Laurel can’t help but grin from ear to ear, and yawns again. “You know I said I don’t like making a big deal out of my birthday.”

“This isn’t a big deal,” Frank says, earnest. “I wanted to do it. Let me pamper you, for once.”

She hums contently, glancing over at the plate. The dish looks like something out of the kitchen of a five-star restaurant, situated on a square white plate, arranged to aesthetic perfection, and garnished with just the right amount of greens. It smells as divine as it looks, and Laurel’s smile grows even wider as she wonders, for a second, precisely how the hell she got so lucky.

“That smells delicious,” she sighs happily. “But… you remember what I said, right? No buying me a gift.”

Frank averts his eyes, looking guilty. Laurel furrows her brow, secretly delighted he’d disobeyed but trying to hide it. “Frank…”

“Relax. I didn’t buy anything,” he tells her finally, reaching over into the bottom drawer of the nightstand. “I made you somethin’.”

She almost laughs. Frank is pretty much the furthest thing from artsy there is, and he’s never expressed even a passing interest in crafting, or any kind of creative pursuit at all. So, needless to say, she’s more than a little bewildered when she sees Frank grab hold of what looks like a little packet of pink construction paper, cut in small pieces and stapled together like something a second grader would make in class to take home to their parents.

She’s bewildered – that is, until she takes it from him and reads what’s written on the front of it, in what looks like some kind of marker: the words  _Coupon Book_  in his typical messy scrawl, surrounded by hearts.

“Oh my God,” she laughs. “A coupon book? Really? That’s so cheesy.”

“Well, you didn’t leave me with a ton of options when you said no buying anything. So I got creative.”

Laurel laughs again and opens the book to the first coupon, propping herself up with a pillow while Frank kisses idly at her neck and breasts.

“One free candlelit dinner,” she reads aloud, running one hand through his hair. “Mmm. I like that.”

“It gets better,” he purrs. “Keep goin’.”

So she does. The coupons are relatively innocent, in the beginning.  _One night in a hotel. One half-hour massage. One spa treatment for her. One foot rub. One Netflix binge night with a show or movie of her choosing._  Then, predictably, it starts getting dirtier – which doesn’t surprise her, really, because it  _is_  Frank they’re talking about here.  _One hundred dollars’ worth of lingerie. One shower sex session. One night of roleplay of her choosing. One-_

“One shirtless selfie of you?” she scoffs, incredulous.

He pauses and grins up at her. “I figured just one isn’t enough.”

“Oral sex. Oral sex,” she reads, then frowns. “There’s two of these. And – oh, look. Satisfaction guaranteed, or my money back. So does that mean if I’m not happy with your performance I get a refund?”

“Oh, you’ll be happy with it. Satisfaction is  _always_ guaranteed with me.”

“All right, but I don’t really need coupons for oral sex, you know,” she teases. “You don’t exactly need to be bribed to do that.”

“Damn right I don’t. Now turn the page. Next one’s my favorite.”

Laurel does, and immediately cackles. The words  _One free mustache ride_  are written on the top of the page, embellished with crudely-drawn mustaches scattered here and there.

“Oh, God,” she snorts. “Well, I appreciate the illustrations. And I’ll be sure to cash that one in soon.” She flips the page, then turns the book toward Frank so he can see it. “One free strip tease? Really?”

He shrugs. “I been practicing my moves. Why not?”

Laurel just rolls her eyes good-naturedly, and turns to the next page. “One office romp at a date and time of my choosing.”

“A little exhibitionism never hurt nobody. And we haven’t gotten fired yet.”

“Oh, I like this one. One night of you being my love slave, subject to my every whim.” Laurel glances down at him, a smile playing at her lips. “Isn’t that…  _every_  night, though?”

“All right, all right,” he pretends to grumble, settling down at her side and tracing a finger up and down her arm absentmindedly. “Finish up here. Your food’s gettin’ cold.”

She nods, flipping through the rest, until she reaches the second to last page, reads it for a moment, laughs quietly, and then turns to the final one. Laurel doesn’t know what she’s expecting, exactly; some hilarious grand finale, or something so explicit and filthy it’ll make her turn as red as a tomato – but the instant she reads the last coupon, she freezes.

_One ‘I love you’_

They haven’t said that to each other. The feelings are there, she knows, and they’re deep, and real – but they haven’t been spoken aloud yet, by either of them. It throws her for a loop for a minute, until she glances over at Frank and finds him staring back, a knowing look in his eyes. Clearly this had been part of his plan all along, and she shakes her head, her mouth moving without articulating any words.

“Frank…” she drifts off. “What is this?”

He shrugs, playing it off casually, even though Laurel can tell he’s analyzing her reaction closely. “You don’t have to redeem it now. Just hold onto it, case you want it someday. Doesn’t have an expiration date.”

Laurel pauses, thinking for a moment and running her fingers over the lopsided hearts drawn on the page, with all the artistic finesse of a kindergartener. Then, very slowly, she reaches out and tears the coupon out of the packet, ripping the edge where the staple had bound it and holding the coupon out for him to take, the tiny piece of paper feeling somehow like the heaviest thing in the world to her. Something lights up in his eyes when she does.

“No. I do want to redeem it,” she says softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his timidly. “Right now.”

Frank doesn’t take it. Instead, within seconds, he’s upon her all at once, kissing her deeply, palming her breasts, the onslaught of passion so sudden that she gives a high-pitched cry of surprise against his lips. He pulls away quickly, however, and looks her square in the eyes, and his are like two big blue pools of gentleness, so tender and full of love that she feels as if, for a moment, that no one even exists in Frank’s world besides her, right here and now.

“I love you.”

He says the words firmly, without hesitation, like he’s meant them all his life, like he’s wanted to say them forever and been holding back. She beams as soon as she hears them, and pulls him in for another kiss, maneuvering herself over on top of Frank and straddling him. They kiss like that, so hard and so long that, by the end, Laurel almost isn’t sure where his mouth ends and hers begins. Her lips are numb, red, swollen and covered in saliva, and she feels so…  _full_ , of something. Of everything he’d poured into her; every emotion, every thought. Every ‘I love you.’

And so she says it back. Of course she does. She’s not sure she’s ever been happier to say three words in her entire life, and they feel as natural as they would have had she been saying them all along, for months, years.

“I love you too,” she tells him, and knows at once that it’s the first of many.

Things escalate, after that. His hands go for his zipper, trying to rid himself of his pants without breaking their kiss – but the moment he does, Laurel pulls away and grins wickedly, reaching onto the nightstand for the coupon book once more.

“Uh uh uh,” she chides mock-seriously, and rips out one of the oral sex coupons, dangling it in front of his face. “Not so fast. I’m cashing in this one, too.”

“Yes ma’am.” Frank smirks and swipes the coupon right out of her hand, kissing his way down her stomach obediently. “Anything for the birthday girl.”


End file.
